The Squad 10 Barracks

Within the dark brown wooden walls of the squad 10 barracks, there lay an inert figure. As time passed, a couple of scrawny members of the 4th division filtered in, washing the filth from the man's face, dispelling the perpetual smell of Sake that seemed to cling to him. They later began work on his nose, which could quite simply be described as flattened. They did wonder what this guy had done to aggravate the captain of the 10th squad so, as a result of her devastating punch; his nose now ran nearly parallel to his face, dried blood seemingly erupting across the lower half of his face.

Eventually, the attendees left the room and, robbed of their incoherent chatter, the room fell into silence. This however, wouldn't last long, as a colossal groan shattered the quiet atmosphere as Sakamoto regained consciousness.

Shakily, he sat up in rather basic bed he had been given, massaging his temples as he was wracked by one of the worst headaches he had experienced in a long while, a combination of a long overdue hangover, and the punch he had received from the captain.

"Damn…" He muttered, to nobody in particular, his voice strained "Just how long has it been since I was properly sober? Must have been at least a week"

Sakamoto fell back into the bed with a dull thud, the first clear thoughts he had had in a while beginning to filter through his mind. Slowly, he began to observe his surroundings. All in all, his room was devoid of any warmth… Except for one splash of unexpected colour, unable to focus his vision in his sluggish state, he could only perceive it as a dash of bright purple against against a bland, brown background. Sakamoto narrowed his eyes, his vision sharpening, it was, he realized, a flower. It was a flower that was all too familiar to Sakamoto…

Suddenly his headache came back in full force, and with it, a multitude of images long buried came rushing into to foreground of his mind. Memories of a better time, memories of a black haired woman…. and memories of death.

He vaulted out of his bed, arm sweeping around in the direction of the flower, sending it, and the vase it was in crashing down to the ground, breaking apart into a multitude of shards. Pausing only to put on his shinigami clothes, and to tie his hair back into a long ponytail, he stormed out of the room.

"I really need some fresh air"

The Human World, Japan

To look at it, one would most probably describe the building as a palace; it was a massive, white, rectangular building, with turrets rising from each corner, tinted glass windows adorning each side. However, if one were to look closely, it had the look of a hospital about it. This was the official residence of the Ishida family, those Quincy who were descended from the fabled leader of the humans in days long gone. These descendants formed a large part of society's elite, and were also responsible for training the newest generation of quincy.

It would be with some surprise then, which people would look at the heir to Ishida legacy. It would be expected, of course, that he would be incredibly proficient on the art of the bow, as was his heritage. However, even though he had above average skills in archery, Ryota Ishida never devoted any extra time to those skills, instead focusing more on the aspect of combat using the Seele Schneider, as he felt a need to be able to hold his own in close combat. However, viewing him as a prodigy, his teachers were disappointed by that lack of effort he put into his archery, and had extended his normal training time in that area.

This was where he was right now, in the underbelly of the Ishida residence, honing his skills. Ducking under the swipe of a dummy hollow, he flexed his left hand, a cross shaped pendant gripped in his palm. Millions of bright blue spirit particles rushed towards the pendant, like moths to a flame, creating substance out of nothing. The dummy careered backwards, emitting a keening wail, as blue light pierced its mask. Ryota now held an ornate bow in his left hand; ebony strips of wood twisting around a deeply dark blue shaft, which in turn was adorned by a black quincy cross.

Sensing the appearance of three more dummies, Ryota sighed. He really was getting tired of training this late at night.

"Tscheh….. I guess I might as well show the old geezers something" He grumbled, blue light swirling around his hand as he created an arrow. "Maybe this'll get them to lay off me about practicing with this thing"

Turning around nonchalantly, he nocked his arrow, drawing it back, savouring the climax of the shot. In a flash, he let the arrow go, flying towards the dummy in the middle, with eyes akin to an eagle, he tracked the shot and, when it was half of the distance from the hollow, he enforced his will upon the fabric of the reishi that made up the arrow. There was a hiss, and the arrow split into a myriad of reishi shards, tearing through the dummies with phenomenal force, leaving nothing but the faintest trace that they had existed in the first place.

Flexing his arms, Ryota looked upwards and yelled, even though there was nobody to be seen "That good enough old timers!?" A line appeared in the apparently solid stone, and parted, revealing a corridor. Grinning, Ryota strode towards the opening, convinced that he'd get some rest for once.

The Squad 10 Barracks

Mio walked calmly into the room Sakamoto was supposed to be resting, as she had been intending to question him about the nature of his past. Instead, she found bed sheets scattered over the floor and the remnants of a vase. In-between those fragments lay a purple flower with a drooping head, a pasque flower, which was strange, as she couldn't recall seeing any flowers when she had dragged Sakamoto into the room.

Questioning the 4th squad attendees, she discovered that it had been placed there by a man fitting the description of the 2nd division lieutenant, which was confounding, to say the least. Why would someone from the shady 2nd division, the lieutenant at that come here… It only deepened the mystery surrounding Sakamoto. In fact, when she thought about it, the Pasque flower was the symbol of the 2nd division, and it obviously had some meaning to Sakamoto.

Sighing, she realized that she would have to sacrifice a fair amount of time in unraveling the mystery that lay at the heart of this member. However, she was still determined to do so. She had to be certain of the squads unity and, if she had been correct about the man's latent skill, she would have acquired a valuable asset in the times ahead, which were rapidly beginning to descend into a worrying situation.

…..

Flames danced… and screams pierced the air. Lightning boomed, illuminating a figure, standing by a gate…. A grin contorted scaled crimson flesh, yellowing fangs protruding painfully from rotten, pitch black gums.

"Time to have some fun..."

AN

Alright, the plot thickens :P… The idea for Ryota's attack has been floating around my head for a while now, originated from Hyapporankan, the binding kido Hisagi used.

I will try to update weekly, but school has become somewhat taxing of late, last month before grades are handed in, and my teachers are doing their level best to overload our brains with a variety of exams, essays and presentations before then, so I might take some time with the next few chapters.